CHINA MAIL
FRIDAY SUPPLEMENT, OCTOBER 7, 1938
was during the trouble in
I Abyssinia. We foreign cor-
respondents, five of us, were in- vited to tour the Italian "front.
We flew from Jibuti to Assab in French Somaliland, where we transferred to an Italian trans- port 'plane and were carried across Eritrea to Massawa..
From there we travelled with a supply convoy to the town of Adi Kaie, an army outpost on the Ethiopian border. This camp, known as "The Door of Adowa," was in a region of high moun- tains, thorny scrub; and almost impassable ravines,
The officers at Adi Kaie re- ceived, us graciously and made room for us in their already crowded quarters. Colonel Mas- saro, commander of the post, was a charming Neapolitan with vigorous white hair and the eyes of a man who has laughed a good deal.
After luncheon in the officers' mess, where we were served with simple army fare by four tall black servants, the colonel apolo- gised with profound regrets for "the many duties which denied him our pleasant company" dur- ing the day, and detailed one of his staff to accompany us 88 guide. Lieutenant Favole was a cheerfully cocky young man whose father was a senator and his mother an American.
**
Our boundaries were unlimited "within reason, of course," "Co- onel Massaro smiled and shrug-
Short Story
ged helplessly. Then, as if to make amends for his discourtesy he begged us to allow him the pleasure of ordering a special dinner for that evening. Then he saluted and walked briskly away.
We donned the topees and glasses which one of the blacks brought from the rear of the tent and followed our guide out into the brilliant sunlight. The lieu- tenant's insignia was that of the Grey Falcons, a crack combat squadron made up of the most skilful and daring fliers in the Italian Army. Perhaps this is why he led us first to the hangars, in front of which the sleek, sin- gle-seater 'planes were drawn up in a long, imposing line.
*
** *
The field itself was unevenly graded and small, too small, we observed. Favole laughed and ad- mitted it was a ticklish job to land a bomber in "the soup- tureen," but explained that it had taken six months of great labour to carve even this much level ground from the rock hillside. There had been three smash ups here already on down-wind land- inga. One of the charred, tangled wrecks still lay in a corner of the field.
"Any one killed?" one of our party asked, pointing to the twist- ed mass.
The lieutenant'a smile i appeared.
her replied: and turned, toward the
Roberly
FOB
seless, ade ground to
THE DOOR TO ADOWA
tents of the 28th of October, Divi- sion, pitched in a curving double row. Most of the soldiers were in their underwear, lounging and sleeping behind the net walls of their tents, or reading weeks-old copies of "Il Popolo." The thin, boyish sentry who presented arms to Favole stared at us from be- neath his topee with hollow, bloodshot eyes.
"That's a sick kid,” some one remarked.
“Si, we're all sick,”. Favole turned and tapped his stomach. "Dysentery and fever. We get it after a while or go
over home."
At the end of the street came out on a hillside which sloped sharply into a gorge. Two hundred feet below us we saw groups of soldiers with rifles and full packs standing in circles round their instructors.
* #
Beyond them and half-way up the opposite wall of the canyon were other groups, roped together in Alpine fashion and climbing. Their khaki uniforms stood out as vividly against the green scrub as a cluster of yellow-jackets on a lawn.
Further down the valley came the spasmodic bursts of rifle fire, with now and then the staccato coughing of machine-guns. We approached the range along the
By Robert Buckner
edge of a cliff and observed the men deploying in mimic attack, firing and then rushing forward a few yards to take shelter be hind the larger rocks of a dry river-bed. Above them on a shelf of the canyon stood three officers, watching.
ran
Once a group of machine-gun-- ners dismantled their gun and scrambled to a better elevation, but when they tried to reassem- ble the gun something was miss- ing. One of the soldiers back and searched for the vital part, bending low and. glancing round the rocks. Suddenly, whistle screamed hysterically, and the three officers began to rage dancing up and down on their shelf and gesturing furious- ly.
*
a
- Lieutenant Favole grinned back at us and wiped his face. "This is how we will take the Takkage Gorge," he explained. "What a dog's life in the infantry,
elt signori? But me will fly over It like a bird!” “and he made a comical gesture of flight,
This bush-fighting is a nasty business,” the writer agreed. "We've had it for two hundred. years on the Afghan border and out in the Wast; but we've never really beaten 'èm at the game. They're born to it and they're fiends at close quarters positive fiends!”
While we were returning to camp the sun went down sudden- mmet behind the nge, and the cool ogical twilight engulf
tents of Adi Kaie in a blue-grey ateam. The men moving slowly about seemed to be without legs and only the tops of the tents were visible. By the time we ar- rived back at the officers' quar ters it was dark
We washed rather sketchily in the shallow basins along the wall and joined the officers in a room which served them as a lounge by day and as a dormitory at night. As we entered a number of offi- cers whom we had not met rose. and were introduced to us by the colonel. On a table in the centre of the room were two bottles of Scotch, some glasses, a syphon, bowl filled with and a wooden rapidly melting ice.
"I regret that we are not quite the colonel ready for dinner," apologised as he poured drinks. "Dr. Rao and Dr. Pauzzano are finishing their examination of the new men, Our waiters are not here yet. They have to go through with it, too. But sit down and we'll have a talk."
"But the way, colonel, those waiters of yours where are they from, may I ask?” said the writer. "They look more like Ethiopians than your Libyan blacks.”
:
"Oh, do they?" the colonel seemed surprised. “I hadn't no- ticed that. No, they're our own Somalis, I believe, Came up with one of the supply trains from Massawa, looking for work. They weren't strong enough for digging, so we brought them in here for kitchen detail. Joni, the tall one, ought to make a fine chef by the time we're through with him.”
*
A fat little flight-major with a Balbo beard asked what had im- pressed us most fa our tour of the camp. It was pretty obvious that he was fishing compliments for his airplanes, but we were no help to him.
Italy's dependence on "air pres- sure" to win this war seemed to us to be greatly overestimated, There aren't half a dozen places. In the whole plateau of Central Ethiopia where a landing can be made.
This war belonged to the in- fantry and engineers, like any other, and it was their tactics and We morale which interested us.. fished in other waters. "The climbing parties," we agreed at last, and a news agency man ask- ed: "How do you, plan to protect them from another amhush like Adowa?"
The cat was out. Many of the younger officers moved restless- ly and glanced at their colonel. Apparently the subject was familiar one.
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"Yes, that will be difficult," Massaro admitted with a frown,
"But conditions: hay
have changed
since 1896. Now, with our air- plane warning us of any concen- trated forces we shan't be taken again like that. No, it's their small bands of guerrilla troops whom we must watch out for. They move like, mosquitoes, you
know..
beggars,"
“They're · cunning said the writer. “I shouldn't care to close with one in the bush."
Again there was a short silence and that quiet shuffling of feet.
"Oh, we shall have a little trou- ble getting through," the colonel nodded seriously. An old cam- paigner with years of Libyan and Somali experience, he knew what to expect. "They're full of tricks, but I think we know most of them by now.".
But this tension of waiting for the unexpected attack. this ́per- petual threat of ambush or poi- son." I persisted, "doesn't that have a psychological effect on the men? I don't mean fear of death. Soldiers learn to expect that, I suppose. But their guile and tric- kery? How do you men feel about that personally?""
"We are in no real danger here, or in any strong camp," the colonel replied easily. "It is only small patrols and isolated columns who must watch out for tricks."
He
changed the subject, and we talked for a while about music. Lieutenant Favole started a small gramophone, but most of the records were warped and the results were amusing. Then there- were sounds outside on the wood- en steps; the gauze curtain was brushed aside
officers
appeared in the way. They
seemed to be excited. The younger
officer's face was grey beneath its tan, like that of a man about to be sick.
The colonel glanced round at them and said: "Ah, so here are the doctors at last! Now we can have dinner. What did you do with our black-boys, Pauzzano?"
The older doctor stepped for- ward. "They are under arrest. sir," he replied.
"Under arrest!" : the colonel jumped up. "What do you mean. (Continued on Page 7)
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